


Crank

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-02
Updated: 2006-09-02
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester's movie moment has him reflecting about how life goes in circles and how nothing ever really changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crank

He has three lines. Not a big commitment, the director assures him when they meet. How can he say no? Was always made to be a movie star, after all. When he comes home he expects more than just a, “What?” from Brad who is leaning against the railing of the back porch, drinking a beer.

“I’m gonna be in a movie.” He says again, but he’s pretty sure Brad heard him the first time and is just an asshole.

“Which movie? Good Will Humping?”

Chester thumps him on the arm and snatches the beer from his hand with a snarl, “It’s called ‘Crank’.”

There’s a moment’s silence and then Brad laughs loudly saying, “Crank?” and then “Like crystal meth? How ironic.”

He says nothing in return, staring out over the back yard in moody silence as Brad laughs hysterically beside him asking “Awesome. Do you play a drug addict too?”

Yes. But he won’t tell Brad that. Won’t tell him how he can’t wait to film it either since Brad seems to be on a mission to shoot him down and make him feel ridiculous. But. What’s new there?

He turns on his heel and heads inside when a hand wraps tight around his wrist. He looks up into Brad’s eyes when the guitarist murmurs, “Stop. Wait.” He doesn’t move, waits patiently as Brad takes a deep breath and swallows his pride. “I’m sorry. I know this means a lot to you.”

“It’s just a movie, Brad.”

“Yeah. But I can read you better than you’d think.”

Chester takes a minute to think, fuck, and wonders if he looked as crestfallen at Brad’s reaction as he felt. He allows the guitarist to take the beer from his hand and set it down before tugging him close and wrapping his arms around his waist. “My little movie star.”

Blushing Chester mutters, “Hardly. I have three lines.” Pause. “About nasal spray.”

Brad smirks and presses their foreheads together, “Even Brad Pitt started somewhere.”

“I’m not an actor.”

“You were.”

He was. In high school. When being somebody else was so much easier than being himself. He wants to tell Brad about how he had planned to go to acting school but couldn’t afford it. He wants to say a lot more but he simply shifts and rests his head on Brad’s shoulder and breathes out slowly against his neck. “I was.”

Brad’s hold on him tightens and the guitarist remembers the day Chester stepped into the studio and they all nearly laughed at him and wondered how someone who resembled an Auschwitz victim could possibly have the vocal skill they needed. Then he opened his mouth…

“Can I come?”

Chester raises his head and frowns, “Where?”

“To the movie set when you shoot your scene.”

He hates that Brad is babying him but at the same time feels a little relieved. Finally, the response he had wanted all along. Better late than never. “If…you want. I guess.”

And so he does. Brad spends most of his time on set following Chester around and, when it comes time to film his scene, he watches from behind the monitor with a shit eating grin. When the director yells cut he bounds over to where Chester is standing and beams “That was awesome.”

Chester rolls his eyes but lets the guitarist fuss over him anyway – doesn’t feel it’s his place to push him away when he leans in and kisses his below his ear softly and discreetly. Brad then spends the rest of his time making comments about the lead actress like “she’s hot” and “I’d do her” in an attempt to redeem the illusion of his heterosexuality. But, by the time the wrap party rolls around, enough people have clicked onto Brad and Chester’s relationship that he doesn’t mind looping an arm around his waist as they stand amongst the crowd of extras to watch the final scene being shot.

That night Chester stands in front of the mirror staring moodily from his reflection to the pile of clothes he dug out of the closet and piled on the floor when he hears Brad on the phone. To Mike probably. At first Chester had worried about how close Brad and Mike were but soon learned that Mike was the shoulder Brad cried on when Chester fucked up.

He had tried explaining multiple times that, just because he had three lines, the movie wasn’t his. But that didn’t stop Brad telling Mike “Yeah. I’m getting ready for the wrap party for Chester’s movie.”

He digs through a pile of shirts and rolls his eyes, wonders if Brad is really happy for him or if he’s just trying to make up for the asshole comments he made in the first place.

The party isn’t as bad as he had anticipated. He gets drunk. Then gets drunker. Then dances with Brad in front of everyone and throws back his head and laughs because he feels so fucking good. That’d be the alcohol. And the pot. But Brad doesn’t know about that.

Later he’s standing outside smoking and staring at the stars and Brad slips out the doors behind him and stands behind him. Arms loop around his waist and a chin rests on his shoulder and a breathy voice in his ear says “What are we doing out here.”

“I’m smoking,” says Chester “You’re keeping me company.”

Brad laughs and tugs on the end of his expander with his teeth. “You can smoke inside, you know.”

“I know. You know what’s funny?”

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted to be an actor.”

“Oh?”

And Chester nods, “But I wasn’t good enough. If I think about it…I’ve been waiting all my life to play…” He pauses and flicks the butt of cigarette away into the darkness “What was my name in the credits?”

“The Pharmacy Stoner.”

And Chester laughs. Because yeah, it’s ironic that all his life he’s been going in circles. Actor, drug addict, singer, actor, drug addict…

He says nothing to Brad; simply lets the guitarist hold him close and leans against him in silence. After a moment Brad whispers against his neck “Why are we out here again?”

“We’re enjoying each others’ company,” Chester explains, “And the night.”

He tilts his head to look at the stars and thinks about nasal spray, Brad, and the way that nothing ever really changes no matter how far away you move.


End file.
